


A Trick of the Light

by Catsintheattic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, M/M, Quidditch, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catsintheattic/pseuds/Catsintheattic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The game is on, a friendly contest between Hogwarts and its guests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trick of the Light

The Snitch gets released, and fourteen brooms soar into the sky. The game is on, a friendly contest between Hogwarts and its guests. 

Seeker against Seeker, and of course everyone thought it would be Potter against Krum. But due to a sprained wrist, Potter is under orders from the Headmaster to stay on the benches, reduced to merely watching.

It’s Malfoy against Krum, Draco against the famous Bulgarian Seeker, against the boy – no, _man_ , who sits at the Slytherin table and shares their food. For weeks, Draco has been trying to engage him in a conversation that might last longer than a few words, but no such luck. During the meals, Krum talks sparingly at best, and Karkaroff ushers him towards their ship the minute the tables are cleared.

Here, in the sky, it’s different. They still can’t talk, but Draco can watch Krum without having to restrain himself, while he circles the pitch, pretending to look for the tiny golden ball. Krum and his broom are one, smooth elegance and efficiency, and it makes Draco dizzy with want and need. He has no chance against Krum, and he knows it. Nevertheless, he will give his opponent and the spectators a good game, and that’s all they will be expecting of him. Draco’s father, though, will be disappointed. But then, when is he not?

Below Draco, players struggle to remain on their brooms, chased by a Bludger gone wild. One of the Beauxbatons players does a flip and twirl with her broom before it gets smashed to pieces. Draco laughs. 

Krum halts his sweeping of the pitch and hovers beside Draco. His face is impassive. He doesn’t taunt. He doesn’t encourage. And then he’s off. Draco takes a moment to drink in the elegance of Krum’s dive before he follows him in tight pursuit. Wind burns cold against his face and he crouches deeper over the handle of his broom to gain extra velocity. Their goal must be somewhere down low. Or why would Krum fly towards the ground at neck-breaking speed?

There’s a glitter to Draco’s right, and, on instinct, he swerves his broom around. Will this be the miracle day when he catches the Snitch against all odds and beats the most famous player in the game?

His fist closes around his capricious prey. But the feeling in his grip is all wrong. There is no soft flutter of wings against the leather of his gloves, no golden gleam shining through between his fingers. Just a hard core in a tangle of leather. Draco hastily stuffs it in the breast pocket of his Quidditch uniform and rights his broom. He squints to discover either Krum or the Snitch in the commotion below. 

A yell from the spectators reaches his ears. “And Victor Krum catches the Snitch!” cries Lovegood. “That’s the shortest game Hogwarts has ever seen, but doesn’t come as a surprise. The players are already gathering around Krum to celebrate. I wonder why Draco Malfoy’s still up there. Maybe Whispering Flinxies prevented him from hearing the announcement? Someone should send up a sign.”

Draco seethes. She’s just loony Lovegood, and yet she dares make fun of him. He steers his broom towards the group of players on the ground. It’s one big love-fest, everybody busy hugging everybody else. When he finally reaches Krum to congratulate him on his victory, Krum narrows his eyes and holds out his hand. 

“You caught my vatch,” Krum says, pointing towards Draco’s chest. The thing Draco caught in the air is threatening to fall out of his breast pocket. He pulls it out completely. It’s a wristwatch, with delicate runes on the face.

“This is yours?”

Krum nods. “A gift from my great-grandfather. Thank you for saving it.” He picks the watch from Draco’s hand, handles it with the same delicacy as he would a Snitch.

It’s the moment for one of the Gryffindor dorks to come crashing into Krum from behind. “Great catch!” he crows. “Come on, the party will be starting soon.”

Krum looks pleased. 

“You vill come to the party tonight?” he asks.

Draco shakes his head. “I reckon I’ll pass.”

They pull Krum away, a gaggle of players and groupies, ready to beg for his autograph and attention. 

A trick of the light. That’s all it was. An illusion and a false prize, and Draco being stupid enough to let himself believe he could catch something, anything, anyone that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> This little ficlet is for cecilegrey, to whom I promised a birthday gift. She gave me several pairings to choose from, and a prompt “wristwatch”. I chose Draco/Victor, and then nathaniel_hp came up with the ingenious setting of a Quidditch match and the watch as a distraction.
> 
> Anyway, what I wanted to say is that the characters and ideas aren’t mine, I just wrote the story. And celta_diabolica did her beta-magic. Thanks to Nathaniel and D. for inspiration and guidance!


End file.
